


you were the breath and i was the shout

by itachitachi



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thieves, Hopelessly Embarrassed Killua, Hot Mess Prompts, HxH Big Bang, Idiots in Love, Injury, Laser Tag, M/M, Minor Violence, On the Run, Stupid romance, competitions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7059892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itachitachi/pseuds/itachitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you study?" Gon asks. "Maps?"</p><p>"Whatever I think is interesting!" Killua says boldly. It's his answer to clients too, when they ask him the sort of things he's willing to steal.</p><p>(Or, an action-adventure. Life-altering flips of a possibly-lucky coin lead to accidental break-ins, intentional break-ins, faked death, near-death, kissing in the dark, road trips, and eventually domesticity with a side of water guns.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance x Meeting

Ultimately, their story begins because of Gon's lucky coin.

 _Happy birthday, kid,_ the letter reads, barely legible. _Hope it's fun. Here's a lucky coin I found on my travels. Maybe it'll do you some good._

_\- Ging_

Gon fishes the coin out of the dirty, partially-ripped envelope. He stares at it, at its cryptic markings and the triangular hole in its silvery center. It feels light in his hand. It might even feel lucky. Gon isn't sure what "luck" feels like exactly, but surely this is it.

He looks back at the letter.

_PS: I hear the custom is to use lucky coins to make all your decisions for one day. The bigger the decision, the more the luck grows._

_PPS: Since you're turning 17, do you think you can use it for 17 days straight?! Ha! As if. Good LUCK!!_

Gon is turning eighteen, actually. So that means:

"Eighteen days, making decisions only on the flip of a lucky coin?" Mito asks. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Gon? It's almost three weeks."

"Over the phone you sound more worried than usual, Mito-san!" Gon says. "Really, there's nothing to worry about!"

"It's because you usually come over for dinner on Saturdays, Gon," Mito says, "but this week you're just giving me a phone call."

"I flipped over it, Mito-san!" Gon says. "Your dinners are delicious, but the coin thought I should stay home and just have some toast instead. I flipped it again over giving you a phone call though, and here we are, talking!"

"Right," says Mito. "I... I suppose I'm just concerned that Ging just gave you some normal old coin and told you it was lucky on a whim."

"Mito-san!" Gon says.

(It was not too far off from the truth, in fact:

"Shit," Ging realized in the coffee shop, "it's the kid's birthday!"

"Here is your change, sir," said the barista at the register.

Ging accepted the Minbo Republic coins, each with variously-shaped holes in the center. "One of these will have to do," he mumbles. "I'll mail him one at lunch."

But this does not concern us; the end result is the same.)

Maybe Mito-san had a point, Gon thinks, three days later, nearly vibrating as he holds the coin in his palm.

"Should I go fishing—heads," Gon asks the coin, "or tails, stay in?"

He flips it, practiced in exactly how to get the best _sching_ from the coin's edges as it cuts through the air. He catches it, just as practiced, and slaps it onto the back of his hand. Tails.

"Okay," Gon says, biting his lip. "Then... should I go out and—heads—climb a tree! Or—tails—stay in?"

Another flip, another _sching_ , another smack. Tails.

"Okay," Gon says, flopping onto the couch. He jiggles his leg for a few seconds, glancing out the window.

"I know!" he decides. "Should I go out and get groceries, heads... or stay in, tails?"

Flip. _Sching_. Smack.

Tails.

"Uggghhh," Gon groans, throwing the coin across the room. It hits the wall and rolls back across the floor, tipping to a halt in front of the couch where Gon is still slumped. He glares at it. It's _Wednesday_. He always goes out on Wednesdays. Actually, it's more like he goes out every day, and this Wednesday shouldn't be some kind of exception. It's even sunny outside. What a _waste_.

"I'm starting to think you're not lucky at all," Gon says to the coin, "but then again, I'm just a regular person. How am I supposed to know if you're really a lucky coin or not? I don't really know what luck is supposed to feel like. It could be anything!"

Just then, there is a loud thump and scrape against the window. The room goes dim, then bright again. Gon snaps his head around to look, but there's nothing there; he must have missed it, whatever it was. He peers down at the lucky coin. It shines at him, tempting.

"Okay," he says. "I've just got to trust you, don't I!"

It continues to shine, reflecting the sunlight from the window, until he picks it up.

"Heads, I check it out," he decides. "Tails, I stay sitting here!"

Flip. Heads.

"Yes!!" Gon says, throwing the coin up into the air. Before it even has the chance to hit the ground he's at the window, undoing the latch and sliding the pane up.

Outside it's just his normal view: the mountains and a couple of other high-rises. He blinks at the feel of the breeze, wondering what the thump could have been.

And then, instead of looking out, he looks down, to the ten black-gloved fingers clinging to his windowsill. Attached to them, when he sticks his head out further, is a boy, dressed in all black, his hair a shock of white.

"Hey," Gon says to him. "What's up?"

&&&

Killua pretends he's invisible for a few seconds. It's ultimately futile; the boy at the window just gets louder and louder.

"Heyyy! HEYYY!! Is everything okay? Do you need help?"

 _Fuck_ , he thinks, fingers starting to sweat inside his gloves. It's sweat from exertion, not nerves, but he had definitely not planned on this happening.

"I guess you can't hear me. It's not that windy though, and you're not that far down there... I said, IS SOMETHING WRONG? Do you NEED A HAND?"

"I'm cleaning the windows," Killua says, against his own better judgement. He looks up; the boy at the window beams down at him.

"Really?" he asks, craning his neck to get a better look at Killua. "You don't have any water or one of those window squeegie things. Actually, you're wearing all black, even your gloves, kind of like some kind of cat burg—"

"It's my window-washing uniform!" Killua interrupts, panicking. "I don't get to decide what I wear. Anyway, are you going to let me in or not?"

"Oh!" the loud boy says. "Yeah, sure! I mean, wait a second—" he ducks back inside quickly.

Killua peers around for another handhold, but of course there isn't one; the building is concrete-smooth. He can feel something trickling down his back, either sweat or blood. Something tickles along his leg, too; he might be dripping. The muscles in his arms are still spasming a little from the stupid electric traps he'd run into on the upper floor.

The boy reappears in the window, grinning. "Yeah, come on in!"

Killua must make some kind of face in his bewilderment, because the boy laughs at him and reaches down to grip Killua's forearms. "Here," he says, "You must be tired! I'll help you up."

Killua is not really that tired. He'd probably have to hang like this for several hours in order to be tired enough to have trouble getting himself through the window above. Having only been here for a minute or two, he's prepared to climb a bit against the outer surface of the building to help the boy drag him in, which means he's surprised when, abruptly, there is no need. The boy simply lifts him—takes his full weight and levers—until Killua's mostly level with the window opening.

"Holy shit," Killua says, without quite meaning to. He gets his feet on the windowsill and squats, peering in at the boy. He looks around Killua's age, but also looks like he could deadlift six of Killua. He's smiling right into Killua's face, straightforward and bright. It's kind of hot.

"Come on in," the boy says, still holding tightly to Killua's forearms. "I don't care about your shoes."

Killua sits on the sill, slowly, and lets his feet dangle inside. He grips back at the other boy's wrists. Stupidly built or not, he could probably knock the guy out in the next few seconds, clean himself up in the bathroom, and get back home before check-in. He's still smarting a little from the safeguards on the penthouse windows, though, and this boy is actually kind of intriguing. He slips off the windowsill to stand inside.

"You're covered in dirt and stuff," the guy says, letting go of Killua to look him up and down, intently. "Is that normal for window washers?"

Killua snorts. "I'm not really a window washer," he says, giving in. Really, it should be obvious.

"Oh!" the guy says, looking surprised. "I guess—that makes sense! But then, if you aren't a window washer, what were you doing out there with the windows?"

"I was running away from my crazy family," Killua bluffs, casual. It's not even like it's totally false; he's been thinking of how to do that for years now, and, after a job gone so spectacularly wrong, this could be as good a chance as any. His wires back to Milluki were all fried in the attempt to get into the penthouse, so he shouldn't be immediately traceable.

"Wow," the boy says, eyes round like saucers. "Running away? Do you need any help?"

"Well—" Killua says, blinking at the offer. "I mean, I'm covered in dirt, so... maybe like a shower or something I guess?"

"I have a shower," the guy says. "You can use it if you want! It's the least I can do, since you seem so cool!"

"T-thanks?" Killua says.

The boy opens his mouth to say something else, but then stops, like he's remembered something important. He pulls a coin out of his pocket for some reason, and flips it. He looks at the facing side after the flip, and then throws Killua a thumbs up and a grin.

 _This guy is probably crazy,_ Killua realizes, with some dismay. It's a shame, too. He's really muscled and hot.

"Wait, I know!" the boy says, gripping at the coin in his hand. "If you need a place to stay, you can stay with me!"

"Wh—are you serious?" Killua asks. "You don't even—"

The boy flips the coin again. When it lands, he grins even wider and tells Killua, "Yeah! My place is yours for as long as you want it!"

"Thanks," he says, gritting his teeth. Would it really be a good idea to stay, he wonders. It might be the last place his folks would think to look—but it might also be the first, depending on how closely they've been tracking his progress.

"I'm Gon," says the boy. "What's your name?"

"K—" he starts, accidentally, and once he's done that, his mind goes blank. "Um. I'm... Killua."

"Killua! That's a nice name." Gon says, still smiling. "Introductions are the first step towards friendship, you know. That's what Mito-san says. And any friend of mine can use my shower if they need to."

The nonsensicality spouting out of Gon's mouth is going to give Killua a headache. "So that makes us friends?" he asks.

"Yeah!" Gon says easily, beckoning Killua to follow. "Friends."

&&&

"Aw man, my clothes are a wreck," Killua says behind him.

"I can wash those for you!" Gon says, looking back at him. "While you shower I'll wash them! You can use some of mine when you get out, since we're close to the same height."

Killua turns pink, and says brusquely, "Fine."

Gon stops in the middle of the hall and points at a door. "This one is the bathroom. The one over there is the laundry! And that one at the end is my bedroom."

"Okay," Killua says.

He doesn't move, so Gon cocks his head a little. "You can leave your clothes outside the door when you're showering and I can get them..."

"No," Killua says, head jerking up. "I'll put them in the washing machine myself."

That seems like kind of a silly idea to Gon, but if Killua wants to walk naked between the washing machine and the shower that's—fine! Since Killua is pretty fine himself.

Killua steps carefully over to the second door and pulls it open to reveal a washing machine and dryer unit. He stares at them for a moment, then grips at the hem of his shirt and pulls it up the littlest bit. Then he looks at Gon.

Gon blinks.

"Actually, I'll change in the bathroom," Killua squeaks, and before Gon can blink, he's scampered back, shoved Gon out of the way, and slammed the bathroom door behind himself.

Gon blinks again, and then chews at his lip. He shouldn't have stared maybe. Killua probably thinks he's a creep. He goes to take a step back from the bathroom door.

It opens again before he can properly retreat; Killua pokes his face out, eyes wide. "This bathroom is huge! Aren't you like my age?" he says.

"Oh," Gon says, caught off guard. "I mean—my dad is the one who actually pays for this place, so... He lives in the penthouse, upstairs."

"The _penthouse_ ," Killua repeats, eyebrows lowering.

"I don't think about it that much," Gon says. He doesn't like the weird look on Killua's face. "Is that no good?"

"Uh," Killua mutters, looking away and withdrawing slowly back into the bathroom. "I mean, I guess it doesn't really matter. It's... whatever."

The door shuts behind him again. Gon waits a little bit longer, in case he's going to come back out and ask more questions, but there's just an abrupt open-and-shut of the door, Killua dropping his black clothes in a heap outside.

When Gon pads forward and picks up the shirt, he finds that it's got a massive rip in the back, and a pattern of burn marks down the left arm. The fabric is a little damp; after a moment it drips onto the floor, leaving a spot of red.

"Huh," Gon says. He scoops up the rest, and puts it all into the washing machine.

He flips the coin as he pulls clothes out of his dresser for Killua to wear. In the end, he leaves out his largest shirt, a pair of boxers, and a pair of blue socks with a hole in the sole. No pants, because the coin had determinedly flipped to tails every time.

Gon is in the middle of trying to rescue an attempt at _lunch_ when Killua comes out. His face is flushed an angry red color and he's pulling at the hem of Gon's oversized shirt; Gon's mouth falls open and he stops looking at what he's doing. The result is his fingers burning.

"What are you—give me that," Killua says immediately, smacking Gon's hands away from the frying pan. "Are you trying to kill yourself or what?"

"I was trying to make lunch," Gon whines, blowing at his fingers. "I thought I could make grilled cheese sandwiches, but—I've just never been good at cooking. I guess it's no good, huh?"

"No way, no good at all," Killua says, scraping the blackened bits of bread and cheese out of the pan and into the garbage. "Why were you even trying to cook in the first place? You're clearly worse than hopeless."

"Well, the coin," Gon says. "I asked it, and it said I should try."

Killua throws the frying pan back on the stove, switches the burner off, and then throws Gon an incredulous look. "The coin? A coin said what? What are you even talking about?"

&&&

Gon seems to think his story makes complete sense.

"Are you stupid?" Killua asks, once Gon has finished. "You know that's a perfectly normal 30-zen coin from Minbo, right?"

Gon frowns at him earnestly. "It's a _lucky_ coin," he says. "Can you prove it's not a _lucky_ Minbo coin?"

Killua rolls his eyes. "Even if it's—" he twiddles his fingers exaggeratedly, "— _lucky_ , the idea is still super dumb. Does that mean if I asked to stay here with you permanently—rent-free, even—you'd let me just because some stupid coin said yes?"

Gon stares at him for a long second, mouth in a small "o". Then he looks down at the coin in his hand, and flips it with a smart _sching_.

"What the—" Killua splutters, "what are y—"

The coin comes down in Gon's palm. He slaps it onto the back of his other hand and stares at it. Then he blinks guilelessly up at Killua and says, "Yeah!"

"You are so stupid!" Killua shouts. "Is there something wrong with you? I'm trying to give you sensible advice here!"

"I don't need sense if I have luck!" Gon shouts back. It's the most ridiculous thing Killua has ever heard, but he doesn't know how to argue with it.

"Let me try the stupid thing," Killua insists then. Only practical demonstrations get through to idiots.

"It's lucky," Gon insists, holding the little silver bit over with a sort of careless reverence. "Promise me you won't try to get rid of it." He holds out his pinky finger for a swear.

Killua snorts. He takes Gon's pinky finger with his own and squeezes tight. Then he grabs the coin out of Gon's palm and flips it, letting it spin recklessly high.

 _Something to ask first, to test it,_ Killua thinks, watching the light flicker off the coin as it whirls and starts to descend. _I guess it has to be—Should I really be staying in this idiot's house? Heads for yes._

The coin falls, landing on heads. Yes.

"Huh," Killua says, then flips it again. _Should I actually run away from my dumb stupid family? Heads for yes._

Yes.

Killua bites his lip, flips again. _If I do, will they come after me? Heads for yes._

Yes.

Gon is staring at him, head cocked. Killua scowls and flips the coin one more time.

 _Should I tell this guy the truth?_ And then, just to be sure, he adds, _Tails for yes,_ just before it lands.

Yes.

Killua stares at the facing tails side for a moment, then screws his face up, throwing the coin back at Gon. "This thing is crap!" he says, flustered.

"It's lucky!" Gon insists. "Obviously it's lucky, it brought the two of us together, didn't it?"

"Wh—?!" Killua starts, whipping around.

Gon is bending down to fish the coin up from off the floor, but then looks at him like he's said nothing out of the ordinary.

"W-whatever," Killua insists. "Fine. Is there anything else to eat in this place?"

"Huh," Gon says. "I burned the last of the bread... I don't think I have anything else left in the fridge."

"Great," Killua says, and so starts fishing in the cupboards. The second one he tries contains an enormous box of Choco Crispies, so he pulls that down. They're stale, he finds, grabbing a handful right from the box, but good enough. "Let's watch a movie on your ridiculous TV," he says, mouth full.

"Okay!" Gon says.

Gon's television really is ridiculously large, but Killua has seen—and stolen—bigger. He finds himself peering around the living room, looking for valuables out of habit, as Gon pokes at the little shelf of Greenray discs.

"What?!" Killua says, suddenly processing what's framed up on the wall. "Is that a—you seriously have an original Netero-version Pre-Mitene map of the Balsa Islands hanging on your _wall_?!"

"Huh? Oh yeah! I love maps!" Gon says. "This one is pretty cool."

It's like finding several million dollars lying by the side of the road. Killua's eyes might sparkle. His mouth might water a little.

Gon smiles at him, bright and unblinking. "My dad has a bunch of these but this one was my favorite. Isn't it interesting? I like the colors in it!"

"Yeah," Killua says, gaze trailing lovingly along the hand-drawn curve of the largest island's western shore. "Me too."

"So you can recognize a Netero original, huh?" Gon says. "That's amazing! Not many people can, you know."

Killua blinks quickly and looks back to Gon, who still looks completely innocent. "Y-yeah, well," Killua says. "I mean, I study and stuff."

"What do you study?" Gon asks. "Maps?"

"Whatever I think is interesting!" Killua says boldly. It's his answer to their clients too, when they ask him the sort of things he's willing to steal.

"No fair giving a vague answer like that!" Gon says. "What kinds of things are interesting then?"

Killua shrugs, off-balance again. "I dunno... Maps lately. Collectible cards. Some art, I guess."

With Gon watching him so intently, it feels like a weird kind of interview. No, more like a confession, Killua guesses. He presses his lips together, hard, and meets Gon's eyes steadily. It's like how it feels with a client, but something is different. Maybe it's the fact that he could get busted right now, if Gon had it in his head to put the pieces together about what he'd been doing scaling a building. Or maybe it's the weird feeling in Killua's chest like he wants to impress Gon. Like he wants to lift a boulder or show off all the things he's ever stolen, just to hear Gon say, _wow!_

"That's cool," Gon says at last, his smile unfolding slowly. "So... what do you think for a movie? Action, or adventure?"

Killua sighs out a massive breath, until he feels empty. Then he frowns. "What are you even talking about? Aren't both of those things the same genre?"

"What? Action is action, and adventure is adventure!"

"You're dumb," Killua decides, and leans over to give Gon a noogie.

They wrestle for five minutes. Gon wins, but not without enduring an enormous bite to the side of his torso ("I'm going to die!" he shouts dramatically, "I'm going to get tetanus from your mouth and die!"). Killua tries to squirm out from under Gon's thighs, but they're strong, pinning his upper arms firmly beside his torso.

Gon stares down at him, gaze intense, and repeats, "Action, or adventure?"

Killua turns his hot face away, and finally says, "Adventure."

"Yay!" Gon says, immediately letting him up. "Adventure is my favorite." He reaches back and pulls a Greenray disc off the shelf seemingly without looking.

"Is that _West Virginia Jones and the Raiders of the Last Park_?" Killua asks, suddenly intrigued. "Awesome!"

He and Gon grin at each other.

It's possible that this isn't really a job gone wrong, Killua considers, clambering up onto the couch as Gon shoves in the disc. Maybe it's gone a little bit right, instead.

&&&

They continue on to watch _Temple of Gloom_ , and then _The Best Crusade_. By the time they've finished the entire West Virginia Jones trilogy, Killua has polished off the entire box of Choco Crispies and started on the equally old box of Apple Puffs. Gon has eaten three bags of popcorn and several carrots that he'd found hiding in the refrigerator drawer. He'd forgotten they were there. He'd found an old banana in his gym bag, too, and eaten it on a dare from Killua, with the coin's approval.

The credits are rolling now; Gon watches them scroll in the reflection from Killua's eyes. It's gotten late, so everything is dark now, except the TV screen, and Killua's eyes.

Then Killua closes his eyes, face scrunching into a yawn.

"I guess it's late now, huh," Gon whispers.

"Mmmnnn," Killua mumbles, and turns his face into Gon's shoulder.

"Are you gonna sleep on me?" Gon asks, bearing the weight of the other boy's slump.

"Depends on if you're gonna stay here," Killua grunts. "Because I'm not moving."

"You could sleep in my bed if you wanted," Gon offers.

Killua's eyes open again, fixing on Gon. He pulls away a little, weight lifting slightly, and they stare at each other. The credits have finished rolling by the time he says, hoarse, "I'll sleep here, probably."

"Ah," Gon says, feeling hot, "yeah, that's probably good."

He puts his hands in his pockets, and finds the little coin. Killua is watching him.

"Should I go to bed now?" Gon asks aloud, and then flips the coin.

 _Yes,_ it says.

"You're kinda dumb," Killua says. "Night, then." And he shoves Gon off the couch.

Gon lands on his butt, laughing. He flips the coin twice more though, and each time it lands on tails: _no, no_.

When he looks up at Killua's face, he sees it's flushed red.

"You're dumb," Killua repeats. Then he closes his eyes and lays his head down on one of the pillows, as if determined.

"You're cute," Gon says, accidentally.

"Go to bed already!" Killua shouts, turning his face into the pillow.

"I am!" Gon says, though he's still on the floor. He watches Killua breathe for a little bit, stares at the rise and fall of his shape, before finally getting to his feet. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and onto Killua.

"Go to bed," Killua grunts.

"I am," Gon promises again, and this time he does pad slowly out of the living room. "Goodnight, Killua."

"Night, Gon."

"I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Yeah."

"For sure!"

"Yep."

The kitchen is dark and empty, and so is Gon's bedroom. Gon climbs into bed, feeling antsy, and stares at the ceiling for what feels like the whole night, until suddenly, he's opening his eyes to the dim light of morning.

Gon always wakes up early. Mito-san says it's one of his best qualities. He wakes up early no matter how much he has or hasn't slept. This morning, he wakes up—bolting upright in bed—to the realization that _Killua_ is sleeping on his couch. He shouldn't make too much noise, he thinks, hushing himself. But he has to go make sure Killua slept okay.

He's putting on his slippers and holding up a shirt, thinking vaguely about how to be quiet, when the sound of breaking glass crashes through the apartment.

Gon _runs_ out, tripping on his slippers and dropping the shirt. He finds Killua sitting on the couch right where he'd left him the previous night, only now he looks adrenaline-spiked, his knuckles white where they grip the blankets, pulling them up to his chin. He's staring out the broken window of the living room, eyes wide.

"Killua?" Gon asks, halting in his tracks. There is glass spilled out all over the carpet. "What was it?"

Killua doesn't say anything, but his mouth twists a little.

Gon pads forward a little, nervous. "Killua?"

There's another glass-crashing noise just behind him. Gon spins around, back to the kitchen, and finds that this window too, has shattered inside.

"Did you—" Gon asks, looking back at Killua, only—

There's a bloody spot on the couch, the blanket falling to the floor. The room is empty. Killua is gone.


	2. Re x Connect

By this point, Killua is pretty sure that his family has stopped looking for him. It's been three years and he's faked his death twice, once quite graphically. He's started a part-time university program under a fake name. He's settled down in an anonymous city and made a few friends, weird though they are. He goes to birthday parties, and hasn't stolen anything worth more than a thousand jenni in a very long time. (He is unable to resist temptation in the candy shops.)

The only person who knows about him is Alluka. He likes seeing her every once in a while, even if it's probably for the best that he doesn't get too close. Being in the same city is enough.

Tonight, though—

He swings open the doors to the laser tag house with both hands. She's the first thing he sees.

"Oniisan!" she shouts, and waves her arms so wildly that she knocks Zushi in the head.

This is nominally Zushi's birthday party, though Killua likes to think of it more like a semi-regular occasion to let loose and kick some ass.

"It's good that you could make it!" Zushi says, standing attentively straight. "You're always the biggest challenge!"

"I'm going to get you this time, oniisan," Alluka tells him.

"Yo," Killua says to Zushi, and "Sure you are," to Alluka. She sticks her tongue out at him.

"Almost everyone's here, so we're going to start suiting up," Zushi says. "I've put you two on opposite teams."

"As usual," Killua says, sauntering off to the pile of laser tag vests and the iridescent wall of equipment. These nights always turn out the same. Not in a boring way.

He's just finished sticking his vest together along his torso—and so has almost everyone else—when someone comes in late.

"Sorry Zushi!" the latecomer says, loud and apologetic. "Wing-san kept me late even though I told him about your party, so I ran all the way here but then I realized I'd left your present—"

"It's fine! My team already has one too many, so you'll be with Alluka and we'll even out. You should get your gear on. Hey, you haven't met Alluka's brother, have you, Gon? His name is Killua, and he's right over—"

The world doesn't screech to a halt so much as drift slowly to a standstill. Killua looks up.

It's Gon.

Gon is staring at him, ignoring the way Zushi is pushing at his shoulder. He looks much the same as the last time Killua had seen him. Filled out even more, maybe. Well, neither of them is a teenager anymore.

"Gon," Killua says, tentative.

Gon's eyes flash suddenly, the line of his shoulders prickling with anger. He stomps across the room from Killua, to the other team's pile of equipment, and picks up the bright vest and a laser gun of his own.

"Killua," he mumbles, just barely audible to Killua's ears, and then he says more loudly, "Your team is going down!"

"That's the spirit, Gon-san!" Alluka says, smacking Gon on the back.

Killua stares at the shape of him for a long moment, confused, before clenching his hand around the grip of his own laser gun. This kind of scenario was only supposed to happen in movies, he'd thought, but if that's the kind of game they're playing, Killua is the best there is.

The arena is lit in ultraviolet. Killua stands at to the side of his team as Zushi leads them in a pre-deathmatch huddle.

"The trick is to get Alluka and Gon out of the running quickly," he's saying. "They're both really good. Alluka's probably going to—"

Killua tunes them out; he doesn't need it. The last thing Zushi's going to tell the team is, _And maybe stay out of Killua's way today._

The lights dim and the team disperses.

Within the first two minutes, Killua has shot four people from Alluka and Gon's team, leaving their vests blazing with light and sound. After that, he flits around looking exclusively for Gon. He's too fast to get shot by any of the others, too careful. Killua knows how to be unobtrusive in a dark place, even when wearing a neon-lit vest, with his hair glowing in the blacklight.

He finds Zushi on the floor, grumbling to himself, his vest blaring from being shot. Killua follows his line of sight—up on a ledge is Alluka, also grumbling and vest alight, tucked away like she'd been sniping.

Killua isn't sure where Gon is, so he leaves the tableau warier than he'd been when he'd entered it. The obvious thing to do is to search, so that's what he does—carefully but not too systematically.

Abruptly he realizes that it's nearly silent; the scuffle of less seasoned laser-tag players and wailing vests is absent. They are the only two players left.

"Hurry up," someone groans.

The hair on the back of Killua's neck prickles.

He turns back to the area he'd just searched, pulling his gun up, right as Gon rushes out from over a low barricade. Their eyes meet, and they fire in the same instant.

&&&

"Rematch!!" Gon demands after the first round. He's sure he and Killua had hit each other at the exact same time, but his vest had registered the hit first so he'd lost.

"Rematch!!" he demands after the second round, even more loudly, and then—

"Re! Match!" he shouts, shaking Killua by the vest. No matter how hard he shakes, it doesn't wipe the shit-eating grin off Killua's face.

Zushi butts in cautiously. "Hey guys, you two can pay for your own one-on-one match if you want, but I think the rest of us are going to move on to the cake part."

"Wh—wait a minute," Killua exclaims, grabbing at Zushi's sleeve. "Is it a chocolate cake?"

"Oniisan!" Alluka exclaims, socking him gently.

"What?" he asks, and she socks him again.

Gon lets go of Killua, still upset. He steps away and starts unsticking his own vest from his body, unable to help the pout of his bottom lip. He can feel Killua hovering behind him, but he doesn't want to turn around.

"Man," says Leorio a few feet away, taking off his own vest. "I thought for sure we'd win with Gon on our team, but that guy's a total monster."

Gon frowns harder, cheeks puffing out. He doesn't turn around, even after he's hung all of his equipment up, even when most of the group has slowly started to trickle away, towards the cake.

"Hey," Killua says, tapping him. "Hey, Gon."

" _What_ ," Gon bursts out, finally turning.

Killua's face is more open now, like he's worried. There's a little chapped dent in his lip like he's been chewing it. It's not cute. It's not!

"It's, uh," Killua starts, looking away shiftily, "it's good to see you again. I just wanted to say that."

Gon feels his bottom lip trembling, so he turns around again. "You made me so _angry_ , Killua! I was so angry. I'm still angry!!" he tells the wall.

"Wha—?" Killua asks. "Angry? Why?"

"Who wouldn't be angry?" Gon says, his face getting hot. His eyes start to sting. "You ate all of my cereal that day! And then you faked your death! For _three years_!!"

Killua doesn't say anything. Gon can't help it—in the space of two heartbeats, he starts to cry.

"Hey! No!" Killua says, taking Gon by the shoulders and turning him so they face each other again. Gon blubbers and tries to pull away, but Killua holds him tight. "Gon, wait," he says, rushed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I'm really sorry. I mean—I told you I was running away from my family, right? That ended up being true. The fake death thing was the only way I could think of to pull it off!"

"It w-was in the p-papers and everything," Gon cries, gunked up with tears and snot. "It was so gruesome!!"

"I mean—my family—we're actually—" Killua takes a deep breath, gripping at Gon's shoulders hard enough that it hurts. "I don't know if you know from Alluka but we're... professional thieves. We do all kinds of nasty, criminal stuff. I had to be convincing."

Gon physically perks when he hears this, hiccuping sobs abruptly halting in his chest. " _What?_ " he asks, clutching at Killua.

"Um, yeah," Killua says, looking away. "I'm still sorry though... I could have left you a note, probably. Uh, don't tell anyone by the way."

"I won't," Gon says, quickly crossing his heart before moving on to wipe some of the wetness off his face. "But Killua—that's so _cool_."

"Uh..." Killua says, staring at him. His face is pink. "And I... should have paid you back for the cereal I guess? Maybe?"

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Gon says. "Since you were supposed to be my roommate then. Or maybe it was just a date, because it was so short? Either way, I don't mind paying for it!"

Killua's pink face turns splotchy and red. "D-date?" he repeats.

"Oniisan!" Alluka shouts. "It's chocolate cake, hurry up!"

"Be quiet Alluka, we're talking!" Killua shouts back, seemingly on reflex.

Gon watches Killua, curious, until he straightens up and looks Gon in the face again. He steps back a few steps, awkward. His blush hasn't faded at all. 

"So there's chocolate cake now," Killua says. "Do you want to keep talking, or... do you want to go eat some?"

He's fidgeting in place. Gon stares a bit longer, and then smiles. "Sure! Let's go eat some cake!"

That's how Gon learns that Killua really loves chocolate cake. He watches in a little bit of awe as Killua takes an enormous piece and fits half of it into his mouth in his first bite. Gon takes an even bigger piece and tries the same, but only manages to smear chocolate frosting all over his own face.

He likes the way Killua looks laughing at him. He likes the way Killua looks, in general. He looks older now: taller, sharper, and better than he did the day Gon met him, even though he'd looked really good then too. Probably that day, Killua had been trying to steal something from someone in Gon's high-rise. Probably Ging.

Gon doesn't think about it any more than that. That time was that time, and this time is this time. Killua's alive, despite all the pictures Gon had seen all that time ago. More importantly, Killua's right in front of him, scowling and dragging a finger through the frosting on Gon's jaw.

There's only one thing to do.

Gon drags his own fingers over his frosting face, and slaps them to Killua's cheeks.

&&&

"But really Illumi had just shot the second window as a distraction, so I took the chance—"

"Wait," Gon says, muffled into Killua's shoulder. "So—so you really left my house out the window that day? But it was the sixteenth floor, and you had nothing but my shirt and my underwear—"

"Don't remind me!" Killua says, squeezing at Gon's thighs. He jolts Gon slightly higher up on his back, shifting his piggyback grip. "It was the worst."

"But you said you were on the run for six months after that!" Gon says. "That's so awesome. That's more awesome than West Virginia Jones! Killua, you should be a movie hero too!"

"Pfft, fat chance," Killua says. "It'd just be a dumb movie about how to steal a pair of pants without attracting too much attention. It was ridiculously hard! Looking back I probably should have just stolen the car first without worrying about it—"

He'd gone over the initial run so many times in his head that he still dreamt about it. Good thing he can laugh about it now—though maybe that's because they're laser-tagged out and full of cake. It's well past sunset, too. They hadn't stayed that late at the party, had they?

His feet swerve a little while he's thinking; they almost run into a wall, and Killua only notices when Gon shouts at him and kicks his legs against Killua's thighs.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Gon asks loudly, right next to his ear.

"I'm going to your place, like you told me to!" Killua says. "Don't tell me you forgot already."

"I didn't forget!" Gon says, kicking him again. "But this isn't the right way, it looks weird!"

"Lay off! I know this whole city inside and out, Gon," Killua insists, trudging on. It's winter; it's cold. Still, his grip around Gon's thighs is getting sweaty. "I know all the alleys and little boltholes. This way is faster, I'll show you."

"It's gotten really dark though," Gon points out. "Are you sure?"

"Even if I'm wrong, where's your sense of adventure, Gon, seriously?" Killua says.

It's the right button to push; Gon squeezes at his shoulders and kicks him even harder. Killua prowls on, his whole back warm where Gon is pressed against it.

And thus they walk, drawing warmth from each other until there's little left to draw. The buildings press closer and grittier around them, neon-lit.

"Always go by major streets, getting lost is bad for feet," Gon recites, singsong. "Killua, It's been ages and I still don't think this is the right way. What do we do now?"

"Well, clearly I have no idea, since I'm the one who's been getting us lost," Killua snaps. He's sweated all the way through his hoodie, thanks to being the one doing all the walking, but still he's starting to shiver. "Why don't you think of something?"

"I'm too cold to think!" Gon, still perched on Killua's back, is trembling everywhere they touch.

"Maybe you can just pull a map out of your ass, that would help," Killua grunts.

"Even if I could, my fingers would freeze before I could unfold it!"

"If you were walking, you wouldn't be cold!" Killua says. "I'm putting you down now."

"Noooo," Gon whines, but drops his legs compliantly when Killua lets go of him. He doesn't release his grip around Killua's shoulders though, just presses in more insistently, smashing his face to the back of Killua's neck.

"What are you doing?" Killua asks, flustered.

"Warming up," Gon says. He lets go with one hand and suddenly there's an unzipping sound. Then Killua is being pulled in, Gon trying to wrap his jacket around the both of them.

"You loser! Stop it! Just walk around if you want to warm up!" Killua exclaims, but after a few seconds of struggling he can't help it; he laughs, tangled up in Gon, and then turns around to hug him. Gon's arms wrap around him in return, strong.

"You're really cool, Killua," Gon says into the equilibrium. His voice tickles at Killua's neck. "And you're really warm too. I like it."

"Hah," Killua says, suddenly feeling heat in his face. "I mean, I guess you're cool too. Hot and cool. I mean, warm. Cool."

"You're pretty silly," Gon says.

"I don't want to hear that from you!"

Gon just laughs at him more. Killua sighs, hands dragging up Gon's back, over his shoulderblades, squeezing him tight. He presses his nose tentatively into the corner of Gon's neck; he smells sweaty. There's a chain around his neck, something dangling down the front of his shirt.

"What's this," Killua asks, pulling at the back of the chain a little.

Gon shifts back, grinning, and fishes the necklace out of his collar to reveal—

"You kept that thing?" Killua asks flatly, staring at the little silver Minbo Republic coin.

"It's lucky!" Gon insists, just like he had that day. "Plus, it reminds me of you. It's how we met, after all!"

Killua doesn't know whether to find this remark more creepy, sickening, or endearing, so he just slaps at Gon's hand, flushed, until he drops the coin back under his shirt.

"I'm still cold," Gon says, his grin going small and soft.

"Right," Killua says, tightening his grip. "So, um. We could keep hugging right here, or... where is your apartment, anyway?"

"I don't know," Gon says, "because we're lost!"

Killua rolls his eyes and peels away, feeling the chill of night wash against his front. The grimy little alley opens onto a grimy street not too far away, lined with a few bars and one semi-popular-looking nightclub.

"Places to warm up," Killua says, waving Gon over. "The bars look kind of gross. We could try getting into that club, dance or something to warm up. Maybe there's someone who can tell us where we are."

"Dancing sounds fun," Gon says. "Like a date, right?"

Killua glances at him quickly; the brightness of Gon's smile makes him blush. "Fine," he says, "Yeah. Like a really shitty date. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Killua!" Gon says. "I want to go on a date with you."

"You're so embarrassing, god!" Killua says, and immediately stomps off toward the entrance to the club.

It's not so full that they can't get inside quickly, and Killua shudders there—under the blue lights of the club, as he breathes in the humid, warm air. It's tangy with the smell of sweat and spilled shots.

It's a mistake to be there with Gon, Killua knows. It's a mistake to let himself be dragged down to the dancefloor, and it's a mistake to dance so close. It's a mistake to let Gon's hands slide down into his pockets like that. It's a mistake to look Gon in the eye.

Dizzy, too many dances later, Killua gulps down a chocolate martini and thinks, he's always made the best mistakes.

&&&

Gon wakes up early, as he always does.

His head hurts a little, but he can ignore it, because there's a Killua curled around him. Gon's eyes are sticky but he's desperate to open them; he pulls the covers down from his shoulders and catches a glimpse of the sleepy laxness of Killua's face. It makes Gon squirm with happiness.

Killua scrunches up and lets out strange grumbly protests with every shift of his sleeping cocoon. Gon should probably go back to sleep—it would maybe help for his headache, and he doesn't want to disturb Killua on purpose, but it's hard to even try to drift off again.

"Oh my god, stoppp," Killua groans, and Gon realizes that he's jiggling his ankle. The mattress is shaking under him.

"I can't help it," Gon insists, voice cracking from the morning.

"Shut up," Killua says, rolling over.

"Sorry, Killua!" Gon says, following Killua as he rolls, because he's warm. "I'm just happy and now I'm awake."

Killua groans out a long sigh, seeming to settle. After only a second, he tenses against Gon and says, "Wait, where's my shirt?"

"Huh," Gon says, pulling the covers down farther to peek at the bare nape of Killua's neck and upper back. "I don't know! I'm not wearing one either."

"Oh no," Killua says, turning around to face Gon. There's a little drool on the side of his face but he looks awake now. "Did we have sex? Do you even remember what happened last night?"

Gon ponders; it's all hazy. "We danced a lot, but we left the club, didn't we? We were gonna go to my house."

"And now we're in bed? Oh my god," Killua says. He puts his hands on his face. "We could have had sex. We could have had fantastic sex or stupid horrible drunk sex. I'll never know."

"We'd remember if we did something like that, wouldn't we?" Gon asks, eyes wide. "I think I would remember that. Because we'd feel different."

"Gon," Killua says, "We really have no way of knowing if we had sex. We could have just given each other blowjobs. If we swallowed, we'd never know!"

"We'd feel different!" Gon insists. "And that would make your mouth taste funny anyway, wouldn't it? Does your mouth taste like you swallowed? Mine just tastes like I didn't brush my teeth last night."

Killua makes a face. "You're right. Gross." He seems to taste the inside of his mouth. "I guess not."

"Besides," Gon says, propping his chin up with his fists. "I don't even remember kissing you. I don't think I would have have sex with you just like that before even kissing you."

Killua's head snaps around. "You don't remember us kissing? Gon!"

They stare at each other for a long moment. Gon tries to think of something to say, but can't—he _doesn't_ remember kissing Killua, he can't remember it at all, and that isn't a nice feeling.

Then Killua cackles at him.

"You're mean!" Gon says, and hits Killua with a pillow.

"This is war," Killua says, and grabs the other pillow from the bed to swing around at a weird angle. Somehow, he gets Gon right in the face.

A few minutes later, after they have successfully gotten in a number of exciting hits, they call it a draw. Gon jumps on the bed for a while longer, avoiding Killua's legs, before falling in a happy slump beside him.

"We can kiss whenever you want to, though," Killua tells him. "As long as you have the guts to do it."

Gon laughs. "I will!" he says. "But first I should brush my teeth."

"Bah!" Killua says. "Why wait for that?"

The way Killua has said it, it sounds kind of like a dare. Gon ponders the reasons for a minute: first is mainly that morning breath is icky, especially after drinking the kinds of things they'd been drinking, but it's true that it's just mouths and that both of them have probably equally bad breath. And anyway, it's Killua, and it's a dare, so.

He rolls over Killua, staring him in the eyes—his face is all red but he looks just as determined as Gon feels. So Gon ducks down, and there's kind of a smash between the two of them. A fumble of lips, a pinning of shoulders. Killua's fingers slide up Gon's back, catching on skin.

Gon's stomach growls. He laughs into Killua's mouth, then pulls back.

"Maybe we should get some food then," Killua says, dry.

"And brush our teeth for real," Gon adds. "Then kiss more."

Killua goes pink.

Gon sits up and looks around the room properly. He realizes something important: it is not his room.

"We're at my house, you said?" Gon asks. "Because I don't think this is my house."

"What are you talking about?" Killua asks.

"Well, look," Gon says, pointing. "It's all clean and stuff in here, and there's books, and everything's in all the wrong place, and the walls are yellow."

"How am I supposed to know that, stupid? Why would you lead us to some house that isn't yours?" Killua asks, looking around wildly. "If this isn't your house and your bed, whose is it?"

"I dunno," Gon asks, squinting at the book titles on the desk. "Maybe if we investigated we could find out."

"Why aren't you _panicking_ ," Killua asks him, sliding off the bed and starting to panic. "Someone is going to walk in here any second and find us making out on _their bed_. We could even have had sex in their bed! Doesn't that bother you?!"

"But we didn't have sex in their bed," Gon points out.

"Either way they could call the cops on us and— _Gon_ , find your shirt, hurry up!" Killua is halfway inside his own sweater, which he's picked up from the floor. Gon glances around and finds his own shirt hanging on a chair.

By the time he's put it on, Killua has started rubbing the sleeve of his hoodie on all the surfaces in the bedroom. Gon watches him for a moment; he stops, apparently satisfied, and then begins shaking out the pillows and making the bed, muttering to himself.

Gon peeks out the bedroom door. It's the main room there, just like it is in Gon's apartment, except this one is decorated wrong and painted blue. Their coats are sprawled on the floor, shedded hastily, and he can see one of his shoes. The kitchen window is broken.

"We must have come in this way," Gon says, pointing.

"Are you _serious_ —" Killua says, when he sees. "No finesse at all! That must have been you. Why would you break your own window, idiot? What a mess!"

"I know we're close, though," Gon says. He puts on his coat and shoes, and starts clambering out the window where they must have come. They're only on the first floor; it's easy.

"Don't touch—you idiot," Killua is saying, and he scrubs down the counter and window frame after Gon has jumped through. Only a few moments later, he follows, grumbling to himself and glaring heartily at Gon.

"I think we're just one number off," Gon says, and points further down the street to an identical apartment building. He skips his way down, Killua's muttering growing louder behind him. When he tries the front door of this building, it works, like it must not have last night; the key is familiarly sticky in the lock.

"Mine is here," Gon says, padding through to his own unit. Killua is still close behind him. The first time going through the front door together is nice, he realizes. Sort of unique.

Gon clicks the door shut behind them.

"So what do we do now," Killua says, looking around.

"Breakfast," Gon reminds him. "Or, brush our teeth."


	3. On x The x Run

Killua goes home late that night, brain fuzzy from kisses and from Gon's endearing idiocy. After two days, during which Killua mainly daydreams and ignores the buzzing of notifications from his online courses, his brain is just as fuzzy.

He opens the blinds on the third day. He never opens his blinds all the way, too paranoid, but it's bright outside and he's restless. He's got Gon's phone number in his contacts, sitting in his pocket, and he's got a time set in his calendar. A date, Gon had insisted. Killua doesn't know what he's planning for them to do, but he hopes it involves more kissing.

It's distraction over this—a date, something momentous and yet so small in the scope of things—that gets Killua shot.

He drops to the floor on reflex at the shatter of glass, but of course that isn't fast enough to go completely unscathed. The only thing that's going to save him from a shooter is his ability to get the fuck away.

Killua's arm burns where he's been hit. He backs himself against the couch cushions and puts his hand to the pain, but finds that it isn't a wound, exactly. It's a tranquilizer dart.

An uncomfortably familiar-looking tranquilizer dart.

He pulls it out and throws it to the floor, fingers feeling numb.

"Hey there, Killu," comes a voice from the broken windowpane.

_Fuck._

"Hmm. Are you here because of the Chimera Crown?" Illumi asks. There's a crunch as he steps over the broken glass on the floor. "I never expected you to pop up again trying to poach my jobs, but to be honest it makes me a little proud."

"I don't know anything about that," Killua says, teeth gritted. "I wasn't trying to poach anything."

"Oh," Illumi says. "That's a shame."

The tauntingly audible sound of his footsteps halts, close. Killua looks up into a face he'd hoped to have left behind.

"It's great to see you alive though," Illumi says, his shooting arm unsettlingly steady as he levels his little dart gun at the center of Killua's chest. "I'll have to tell Mother. She'll be very happy."

"Illumi, don't," Killua says, sinking further back against the foot of the couch.

"You know we can't let family secrets get out, Killu," Illumi says. "Being dead is one thing, but there's no way you can just wander about like this."

"Do I look like I've been telling any family secrets?" Killua asks, angry. "I _quit_. I live in a nasty building that rents cheap."

"You look like a Zoldyck," Illumi says. His head tilts in that faintly approving way; it makes Killua want to vomit.

"Fine," Killua says. "Then here's a deal. I'll tell you where my stash is if you keep quiet and leave me alone."

Illumi's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything.

"I don't need it," Killua continues, teeth gritted. "No one else knows anything about it. You can keep it all or sell, I don't care. I don't want to be part of the business anymore."

"Oh, but Killu, you'd be so good at it," Illumi says.

"I know the location of three Ging Freecss originals," Killua says; final offer.

Illumi's mouth thins.

There are two seconds of consideration, and then three. In the minute space where Illumi shifts, deciding, Killua pulls his stun gun from under the couch cushion and fires.

He can't avoid Illumi's reflexive shot, taking a dart to the shoulder that he immediately pulls out, hoping it won't hit him too quickly, but he knows at once that his own shot has been effective. Without waiting to see the result, he dives past Illumi, over the glass on the floor and out the ragged window.

The winch and cable Illumi had used to stake out and enter Killua's tenth-floor apartment are right there. Killua has good aim, but the chemicals from the darts are making his head swim. It's almost pure luck that he manages to get a good hold on the cable and unbuckled harness; he takes great pleasure in making the self-belay drop at a near-breakneck pace. He jumps the last story, and upon getting to the bottom, pulls his knife out of his shoe and saws at the cable until it breaks.

It's only once he's reached the sidewalk that he realizes how badly the sides of the shattered windowpane he'd jumped through have shredded his arms and legs; dark drips stain the curb with every step he takes. He still keeps tools around his house, and he thinks he always will, but he's stopped wearing the tough stuff. It means he's leaving a blood trail that will stand in the way of any attempt at escape.

"Killu," Illumi whines from the tenth floor, a cold tickle in Killua's ears.

The obvious thing to do is just to steal a car right off the sidewalk in front of him, so that's exactly what Killua does. He's got about two minutes before things start to get really blurry.

_A plan_ , Killua thinks to himself, frantic, as he breaks into what is quite possibly his landlord's truck. He can probably jack a chain of about three cars in the amount of time available to him, sleep off the tranq in the third car, and then catch a fourth car to drive out of town.

He's dizzy and wired fifty seconds later, when he jacks a car three blocks away, and even dizzier when he jacks the third car even further out. It's only the tranquilizer that knocks him out—he sleeps it off in one of the university's pay-parking lots, and when he wakes up he feels even more wired, sure that Illumi is right behind him.

He isn't, but Killua hotwires two more cars for good measure, the first right out of the same parking lot, before booking it onto the nearest highway and driving at an unremarkable pace for a solid hour and a half. He gets steadily dizzier the longer he drives. He stops only once, to get water at a roadside gas station, and notes that the driver's seat is damp with blood.

After that, he navigates to the nearest ER.

He sits in the parking lot with his phone first, the thought suddenly coming to him that there are things in that anonymous city that he's going to have to abandon now. Alluka will be upset, but he thinks she's always been expecting something like this to happen. Gon, though—he won't understand it at all.

_Sorry_ , Killua finds himself typing out, slow. His thumbs aren't working very well. _I don't think I'll be able to make our date._

He stares at the phone for five seconds, feeling the weight of finality bear down on him, when the screen abruptly lights up, and the phone itself rings cheerily. It's from Gon.

"What?" Killua asks, hands trembling around the phone.

"KILLUA," comes Gon's—that's a straight up _shout_. "Killua, why not?"

"Uh," Killua says. "I... I'm about to go into the ER right now, so..."

"WHAT?" Gon shouts again, loud enough to make Killua wince. "You're at Hunter General Hospital?"

"Er... no."

"Huh? If not, then tell me where you are, I'm coming right now!"

"Ah—Gon."

There's a noise, and then Killua hears a muffled shout of, "LEORIO! I'm borrowing your keys!!"

Killua drops his head to thunk against the steering wheel.

"It's okay, right Killua?"

"I mean... fine, I guess," Killua says. "If you really want to."

"Great! Text me which hospital you're at! And take care of yourself until I get there!"

Gon hangs up before Killua can gather himself enough to reprimand him. Killua is left looking at the phone in his hand, confused and a little angry.

His fingers are cold.

&&&

Gon finds Killua's phone buzzing in the hospital trash can.

"How did you get here," he wonders aloud, as he fishes it out. "And how am I supposed to find Killua if he doesn't have you?"

He can't unlock the phone, but when he taps on the screen he finds that the background has been set to a line of large text that says: _Ask for Aki Llu at the front desk. Leave this phone in the trash._

Gon does. The phone looks sad and lonely in the trash can, so he throws a napkin in as well to cover it up.

The front desk receptionist gives him a room number, which Gon uses to navigate to a small hospital room where Killua is sitting in a rickety bed, hooked up to a blood bag on a stand. Gon rushes over to him fast enough to make Killua jump in place. It's good that Killua is awake, but the sight of him with arms and legs covered in bandages makes Gon's insides squeeze up.

"What—" Killua says. "Are you crying?"

"Killuaaaa," Gon bawls, and dives in to hug him.

"I'm _fine_ ," Killua mutters, into Gon's shoulder. He wraps his arms around Gon anyway. "It's just some scratches."

"You almost died again!" Gon wails. "You almost died and left me _again_ , before we could go on our date!"

"I didn't, though," Killua retorts.

Gon just holds him tighter, tighter and tighter, feeling angry and sad and relieved all at the same time.

"Listen," Killua eventually says, quietly. "I don't... think we can date anymore."

"What?!" Gon looks up, face almost colliding with Killua's.

"My family found me again," Killua says. "I've gotta start running again or they'll catch me. I've been trying to avoid that this whole time."

"But..."

"I know," Killua says, and his fingers dig hard into Gon's back. "Will you get in touch with Alluka and tell her I'm sorry? I'll see her again one day, I promise. And I'll see you too."

"I'll tell Zushi to tell Alluka," Gon decides, matters clearing instantly in his head.

"Huh?"

"I can't tell Alluka," Gon says. "Obviously I'm going to go with you!"

"What—Gon, you can't."

"Why not?" Gon insists. "You're bleeding, you've got bandages all over! You're in no condition to go on a long road trip alone! And everyone knows it's no fun to go on road trips by yourself, anyway."

Killua is staring at him, mouth open wide.

Gon nods firmly, twice. "This can be our date."

"You really want to go on a date with me _that_ badly," Killua says, teeth gritted.

"Of course!" Gon says. "I've been wanting to go on a proper date with you for three years."

The blush that suffuses Killua's cheeks then is slow and deep. It's a good sign, probably, that the blood transfusion is doing its job properly.

&&&

"This isn't much of a date," Killua says, on the fourth hour of driving. "Actually, it really sucks."

"What? No it doesn't!" Gon tells him. "This is cool! Look, we're passing a natural park with the oldest tree in the country!"

"A tree," Killua repeats, as judgmentally as he can. "Boooooring."

"It's not boring, Killua!"

"All of these roadside exhibits are stupid!"

"No they aren't!"

"Are too!"

To Killua's great chagrin, the next words out of Gon's mouth are: "Nuh-uh! I'll stop at the next one and you'll see how great and fun and date-like they can be!"

Gon is driving, because he'd kept crying at the sight of Killua's bandaged-up-but-still-essentially-fine arms. "I'll do it," he'd said, determined and completely unnecessary, and Killua had let him have his way. Now, this just means that it's impossible for Killua, from the passenger's seat, to wrest control of the steering wheel and prevent Gon from turning off to visit _Zodiac Farm: real farming, real crop circles_.

The crop circles are obviously fake, but Gon loves them. The gift shop is even more fake, and Gon loves it even more.

"Look at these cute alien plushies, Killua!" Gon says. He's holding a little stuffed creature that looks very much like a basketball-player-shaped E.T.

"They're super dumb," Killua says, eying the plushie. "I guess not as dumb as these keychains, though. He holds one up; it's just a crude drawing of the shape of the crop circle, dangling on a silver loop.

Gon gasps when he sees it. "Killua! It's perfect! Can I get it?"

"What, this?" Killua asks, pulling the keychain back immediately. "Obviously no way. It's so boring you'll forget what it's even in the shape of."

"I won't forget it!" Gon says, making a grabby hands gesture. "Give it!"

"No!" Killua insists, but Gon is reaching out anyway and grabs onto the end.

Ultimately, it is a cheap piece of plastic, and they break it in the ensuing tug of war. Killua is forced to pay for the stupid thing, but at least Gon doesn't take it with them.

"We'll just have to get the best keychain at the next place we visit," Gon tells him, nodding.

"Are you kidding?" Killua asks, throwing the receipt violently into their trash bin. "We're not going to another one of these stupid tourist traps!”

They go to another one of the stupid tourist traps.

"The Zodiac Farm place was a draw, but this Phantom House is going to be another story," Gon says, rolling up his sleeves. "The person who finds the best thing under ten jenni gets to keep it, and the loser has to pay!"

"Are you—" Killua starts.

"Ready?" Gon says. "Set—"

"I don't think—"

"Go!" Gon says, and takes off immediately for the children's section.

"Dammit," Killua says, watching him immediately dive for the biggest basket of plush toys. It's going to be fine though—Killua can't panic. All he has to do is find the best... or rather, worst... or maybe, best?... keychain in the entire store. He'll win, somehow.

&&&

They leave the shop together, Gon holding a little plush of an oddly grotesque werewolf, and Killua with a super-weird keychain that looks like a vacuum cleaner with fangs.

Gon strides towards the car in the parking lot for a few steps before he realizes that Killua isn't following. When he looks back, Killua is just looking at his fist, and the little vacuum cleaner charm clutched inside it.

"Why are you doing this, anyway?" Killua asks.

"This, like, the gift shop game?" Gon asks. "Because it's fun!"

" _This_ , like why are you even here," Killua says, still not looking up. "Why did you come with me? I pissed my brother off for real this time. I know he'll be trying to find me."

Gon pauses, thinking. Eventually, he says, "That just means I've got to stay with you, doesn't it? I really didn't like it when we were apart last time, when they were looking for you."

"That's stupid," Killua says. "We'd only just met then. We don't even know each other that well now."

"I know!" Gon says. "We'd just met, and already I didn't like it when you left. Isn't that kind of cool?"

Killua doesn't say anything.

Gon moves a little toward him and continues, a little quieter this time. "That's why I think it's important that we be together this time. We should stay together, for as long as we want to be together!"

Killua stares at him for a long moment, until the back of Gon's neck starts to prickle. Then Killua shoves the vacuum cleaner keychain in his pocket, and looks at the car. "Where do you want to go next?" he asks.

"I don't know," Gon says honestly. "Anywhere, as long as Killua is there!"

"No, stupid," Killua says. "Pick somewhere, anywhere. I don't know where to go either."

Gon grins. "As long as we're together, it doesn't really matter. Right?"

Killua huffs, glancing away. "At least pick a direction."

&&&

It's slow, unbearably slow, but they start to get somewhere. They buy shampoo and toothbrushes and changes of clothes, and later they buy sunglasses and hiking boots and raincoats. They start to stay longer at places. It's a crawl, a snail's pace, but it's safe. Killua divines each next location using random latitude and longitudinal numbers, taking into account the distance between their destinations and major valuables in the country. Several times, Gon uses his lucky coin on a chain to "help" guide them from place to place, despite Killua's protests.

Even taking these measures, it's hard for the two of them to lie low. Everywhere they go, they seem to make names for themselves.

"Killua, let's eat there!" Gon says, pulling at his sleeve to make him slow the car. It's a little diner, and it looks as good as anything else they've found so far in town. Once Killua has parked, though, he sees what had drawn Gon's attention.

"No, you are not entering an eating contest," Killua says. "You'll get totally sick and I'll have to take care of you."

" _I'm_ not entering," Gon says, grinning. " _We_ are."

"We are not," Killua says, though the challenging glint in Gon's eye makes him desperately want to.

"Don't you want to see who's going to win?" Gon asks. "I think I can eat more than you."

"I eat faster than you, obviously I would win!" Killua says, despite himself.

"Let's find out, then!" Gon says. It sounds reasonable.

It sounds less reasonable once Killua has eaten three hamburgers one after the other. He groans as he reaches for the next, slowing. Gon is chomping away at his fourth already. Killua's been completely overtaken.

Even though he's lost, he delights in these little things: watching Gon eat more than a man twice his size can. Killua spurs Gon on until he's green in the face, batting Killua's prodding fingers away.

Killua has been finding that, for some reason, not having a goal is better than having one. He's always been the kind of person who aims at a target, but there isn't a target anymore. He can only drink in the moments in front of him, each moment with Gon—even these sorts of ones, where they've got barbecue sauce smeared all over their faces.

Gon ends up winning the eating contest, shoving his plate away and smacking his lips before groaning. There's a round of semi-impressed claps around the restaurant. Even the other competitors give Gon little nods.

"You didn't finish everything," Killua whispers into Gon's ear, feeling devilish. "You left the sauce."

It's true—there is a bottle of barbecue sauce in front of each of them, and they had been told to eat everything. Gon gives Killua his determined look. After a long moment, he reaches out for the bottle.

_Seriously—_ Killua wonders. He feels awed by his own power at first, but then he just feels nauseous. The restaurant audience stops clapping and starts groaning.

Fortunately for everyone, but most especially Gon, the bottle is already mostly empty. Gon thunks it down, empty, on the table once he finishes. He thunks his face down on the table right after.

"You boys can both have a free meal here next time you come," the restaurant manager says to Killua, nervously. "But please make sure your friend is okay."

"Uh-huh, I will," Killua says, wincing. "I'll take him... home."

"I'm gonna be siiiick," Gon whines, once Killua has got Gon's arm around his shoulder. He half-carries, half-pushes him back to the car.

"You're such an idiot, you know," Killua says. "You shouldn't do dumb things just because I dare you. That was a dumb thing."

"I thought I could do it, and I did it!" Gon insists. Killua flops him into the backseat and throws a plastic bag on top of him, just in case he needs it.

When they get back 'home'—the town's motel—Killua walks Gon up the stairs and right into bed.

"Does it make you happy to know that you've survived eating straight barbecue sauce?" Killua asks, filling up a bottle of water in the sink. "Is this an adventure for you too?"

"It doesn't feel like an adventure anymore," Gon whines.

"Good. Drink this or I'll punch you," Killua says, handing Gon the water, and climbs into the bed behind him.

Gon expends some effort trying to drink the water without sitting up. It keeps him from drinking too fast, so Killua doesn't bother to help. He puts some cartoons on the TV, and tries to pretend that he's watching them instead of petting Gon's hair.

Eventually, Gon finishes the water and starts to hum, back pressing soft and warm into Killua's front. In time, the hums turn to snores, and Killua's hand slows to a stop, and they both close their eyes, sleeping off the enormity and absurdity of their meals.

It feels like days later when Killua wakes up. The light behind the thin curtains is gentle and gray, and when he rolls over Gon is awake, looking right at him. Killua can see shapes and colors from the television reflected in his eyes.

"You're alive," Killua says, mouth fuzzy.

"Yeah," Gon says. "I feel better now."

When Gon reaches out for him, Killua relaxes. Gon doesn't cling, but instead shifts his bodyweight into Killua's until they feel like one unit, bound together.

"This is our fifth day in the same place, you know," Gon says. "I think it's nice."

Killua bites his lip, then mumbles, "Yeah."

"You're okay?"

"Yeah... yeah."

Gon squeezes Killua tighter, ducking to press his face to Killua's neck. His breath is hot and regular, tickling there, in and out. It winds Killua up for some reason; his toes curl and he shuts his eyes, shuddering.

"Still okay?" Gon whispers, against his throat.

"Yes," Killua says. He almost doesn't recognize his own voice.

"Killua," Gon says.

"Shut up," Killua says, gripping at Gon's shoulders. "Don't say anything."

"Killua, can I kiss you?" Gon asks.

"What did I just say," Killua mutters.

He feels magnetized, charged. Something pulls his body to Gon's—something more than gravity, more than the strength a single human can possess. They fit together clumsily, breathing each other in.

Killua doesn't want this to end, not ever, but it will. All things do.

&&&

They're driving to the next place, the next anyplace, when Gon thinks of it.

"The next place we go, Killua," he says, "can we get a house? Like a real house, just for us?"

The car goes jerkily around the next curve as Killua squawks. When he looks at Gon, he's got his angry face on. "Exactly who has the money for a house, huh?" he asks, overly loud.

"I do!" Gon says. "My dad gives me an allowance."

Killua scoffs at him. "Do you even know how much it costs to buy a house?"

"A lot, I guess," Gon says. "But if it was something I really wanted, Ging would give me more money. He has a lot."

Killua glances wildly out the car windows, but they're still driving in the middle of nowhere. "Watch who you tell that kind of thing to!" he tells Gon, agitated.

"Huh?" Gon asks. "But you're the only one here. And you already knew about Ging's money because you were stealing from him when we first met. Right?"

Killua is red and silent for a while, just driving. Gon knows he has to be patient, so he waits, and eventually Killua says, "You've been paying for the gas and hotels and everything for like a month now. Exactly how big is your allowance?"

"Really big, I guess?" Gon says.

Killua chews at his lip; Gon fidgets, still waiting.

"Fine," Killua mutters at last. "Let's find out how big your allowance really is."

"What does that mean?" Gon asks, bouncing in place.

"It means sure, let's go buy a house," Killua says, loud again. "Let's buy two houses. Let's buy a whole mansion."

They can't afford a mansion, they find—at least, they can't _yet_. But they can afford a little apartment in an obscurely pretty town not too far from the Yorubian mountains. Killua does the talking while Gon plays with the faucets, making sure they work.

So somehow they get an apartment; it's bright and theirs and Gon loves every inch of it.

After that, they buy a mountain of snacks, and a giant bed, and a mountain of pillows to go on the bed. They destroy the pillows after a number of too-enthusiastic pillow fights, so they replace them. After a little while Killua insists that they need a second house, and Gon thinks that could be fun, so they lay around on the living room floor eating snacks and looking for options in the newspaper.

They rent an inflatable bouncy house, and that's about the point where Gon's allowance runs out.

&&&

"Arrgh," Killua shouts, smothering Gon with a pillow against the floor of the bouncy house. "I thought you said your dad would send you more if you asked!"

"Hmm msst bm trabbllling r sbtthggg," Gon says, mostly unbothered.

"Traveling?" Killua says. He tosses the pillow aside, impatient. "Who travels completely incommunicado without telling anyone?"

"It's not that weird," Gon insists. "He's always just been like that."

"Fine then," Killua says. "But we've got to think of something for money. Our snack-mountain is only going to last us a couple of days, we'll starve after that."

"Oh," Gon says. "Killua, are you going to steal something?"

"No way!" Killua scoffs. "Like I'd risk myself like that. We're gonna get _jobs_."

Immediately, he wants to take a picture of Gon's horrified face staring up at him. "But, Killua!" Gon says.

"Jobs!" Killua says even louder, trying to ignore the way his own stomach is turning over. "We can do it, can't we? We're pretty cool."

"But I don't want to," Gon whines. He kicks his feet like he's having a tantrum.

Killua watches him for a moment, chest filling up with an agonizingly sweet pressure, a feeling that swells and blocks everything else out. He's felt it before, in between their adventures over the last little while. But it's only right here, straddling his best friend in a bouncy house and bickering about employment, that Killua finally realizes what it is.

Killua's breath clogs up, and he punches Gon's arm quickly to cover how shaken he feels. "You're such a _kid_ ," he says.

Gon sticks out his tongue. "If I am, so are you."

"Yeah?" Killua says, aggressive, "so what if I am?"

He falls hard on Gon in something like a tackle, and they roll over a few times, each trying to wrestle their way on top. Gon nearly wins until Killua crashes them into the bouncy-house wall, and from there they crash again back into the bouncy-house floor. The wobble of every surface keeps them both off-balance, and the scuffle wraps up quickly, neither of them on top.

Gon clutches at Killua, and his next words are muffled in the fabric of Killua's shirt. "Are you really going to get a job?"

"Yeah, I think so," Killua says, quiet. "Maybe in the museum or something."

Gon wriggles closer. "I guess I'll try to get one too then," he says.

"You'd better," Killua says. "You and your stupid coin are the ones that got us into this mess in the first place."

"Pffft," Gon says, and starts laughing. "Really?"

Killua doesn't answer; he dips his head to press his nose in the mess of Gon's hair, and squeezes at him tight. Gon squeezes back, and they hug like that for a long time, hard, like you have to do when you're skydiving, or falling off a cliff together.


	4. Coda

Kurapika's least favorite part about being a police officer is the paperwork. Regardless, he diligently devotes at least three hours every Friday afternoon to completing his reports in his office. On this particular Friday, in the middle of February, he is interrupted from his work by a bang against the glass of his office window.

There is a young man outside his window, in a pair of shorts and steel-toed boots, dangling from the roof with a bucket dangling from his belt. There is a window squeegie in his hand, but with his other hand he waves to Kurapika, smiling sheepishly.

All in all nothing to get distracted by; unfortunately this particular window washer must be either new, or clumsy, or both, because he bumps his knees almost constantly against the glass as he washes the windows, sometimes necessitating additional rounds of washing, and often resulting in the window-washer making apologetic charades in Kurapika's direction. It's extremely distracting, but for some reason Kurapika doesn't find it bothersome, and almost misses the odd company when the young man moves to the floor below.

At the end of his day not long later, he finds he's leaving the building just as the window washer is unrigging himself from the police station exterior. His knees are a purple-black mess of bruises, and as Kurapika gets into his car the window washer hauls the rig onto his back and begins trudging out of the parking lot.

"Ah, excuse me," Kurapika calls, sympathy getting the better of him. "I can give you a ride to where you're going, if you like."

"Really?" the young man asks. "Thank you so much!"

Together, they get the washing rig settled in the trunk, and the young man directs him first to where the rig needs to be dropped off, and then, after that, to his home, when Kurapika offers.

"I'm Gon, by the way," the young man says, smiling brightly. "You've really saved me! It's Valentine's Day, you know, and now I'll get home early!"

"Oh, do you have plans, Gon-kun?" Kurapika asks, watching the road.

"Yes!" Gon says, almost a shout. "I'm going home to see Killua! He's the greatest! You should come over and meet him sometime! I mean he works late sometimes so I'm not sure if he's home yet today, but you're definitely invited anytime, he's the best!"

A bit taken aback, Kurapika just says, "I wouldn't want to interrupt any special plans for the day."

"Oh, I don't really have any plans besides seeing him," Gon says, amicable. "I know it's Valentine's Day but Killua is so shy. Days like that kind of scare him, I think! So I can't do anything too special."

"I... see," Kurapika says.

"He's just so... Killua," Gon in a wistful sort of way.

Kurapika gets the impression that Gon has kept himself relatively contained for quite a long time. He doesn't interrupt while Gon speaks, only nods at various points as Gon rambles away.

When they get to Gon's house, he remembers his manners. "Oh!" he says, perking. "What's your name?"

"It's Kurapika," he says, chuckling.

"Well, thank you for the ride, Kurapika!"

"It's no trouble," Kurapika says, unlocking the doors. Gon gets out, and nods again in thanks. Kurapika decides to wait until he gets inside, but then spots something curious.

There's a large package on the doorstep of the apartment building, wrapped in brown paper with _GON_ scrawled on the side in marker. When Gon spots it he bites his lip and nearly vibrates out of the car, tripping across the lawn in his haste to open the box. Ripping at the paper, he unearths a massive green water gun, its tank full and heavy with water.

There seems to be a note on top; Gon opens it, pores over it, and then—

"Kurapika!!" Gon shouts, getting to his feet and lugging both the water gun and the note with him. Kurapika's hand flies to his radio—he has no idea what could be happening—but Gon just shoves the note at him, blubbering. " _Look_ at this," he says, eyes teary.

Kurapika reads the note once, then twice.

It's not much, just: _Here. I've got one too. Good luck, haha. -K_

He hands it back to Gon, confused.

"Killua is the _best_ ," Gon repeats, waving the slip of paper around before pressing it to his cheek. "Ahh, he's so romantic—"

There is a massive gushing sound; Kurapika jerks back, heart pounding, but it's just water, and only Gon has been hit. Gon's hair drips down into his face, and when he turns back to the source of the spray, Kurapika sees that the fabric of his shirt is soaked through in the back.

"Gon! Your guard is completely down!" comes a voice in the distance.

Kurapika's view is obstructed by Gon and the frame of the car, but when he ducks he glimpses a young man of about the same age standing further down the sidewalk, his hair white to Gon's black. He's got a giant red water gun cocked against his shoulder, and he's frowning in a very put-upon fashion.

So this is Killua.

"I'm not going to show you any mercy just because you're cute," Gon calls.

The other boy turns pink. "Don't just say things like that in front of other people!" he says, and fires again.

This time his burst of water catches Gon directly in the face—not that it seems to bother him. Gon laughs and cocks his own Ultra Soaker as Killua flits further down the street.

"You should probably go home, Kurapika," Gon says, pumping the handle to build up pressure in his water gun, "or you could get caught in the crossfire."

Kurapika is in a car, so he's not particularly worried about getting caught in the crossfire of a water gun fight, but he says, "Alright, Gon," anyway. "Have fun."

Gon flashes him a thumbs up, glances around, and then ducks close to whisper quickly, "Isn't Killua the greatest?"

Kurapika considers the white-haired boy's aggressive gesture of courtship, and says, "You two seem perfect for each other."

Gon beams. "I'm super in love!"

"Enjoy your Valentine's Day," Kurapika adds. "You're very lucky."

"I am lucky, aren't I?" Gon asks, and absentmindedly pats a spot at his chest. "Thanks, Kurapika! Remember, you're welcome anytime!"

"Gon!" comes the voice again. "I'm serious! Hurry up and fight me!"

"Right!" Gon shouts, and bounds away from Kurapika's car at a surprising speed. In the distance Killua ducks behind a hedge, but not quite in time to avoid a long shot from Gon's water gun.

Kurapika shakes his head and puts his car back into gear.

He catches himself smiling for the rest of the day, not really knowing why.

He might go back sometime, he thinks.

[ ](http://killuz.tumblr.com/post/145729941108/based-on-itachitachi-s-cute-fanfic-for-hxhbb)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the HxH big bang mod, it was fun to have a fest (even though this is really shorter than a proper big bang, haha!) And double triple thanks to **killuz** for their art (°◡°♡).:｡


End file.
